


After Life

by orphan_account



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 09:24:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5411555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alyna was young and full of promise when her life was ended by the Lich King. Turned into an undead creature she must struggle to reconcile her past with the new reality of her existence. What's really left after everything you were has been taken away from you? Do the dead have the right to feel anything at all? What if fate gives you a second chance? If a Forsaken has to chose between love and loyality, can there really be a right decision?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first WoW fanfic. I haven't played any of the Warcraft games, so all knowledge of the Fall of Silvermoon stems from the internet. The first two chapters detail Alyna's background; what happend before the events of WoW take place. I should warn you that English isn't my first language, so there may be some oddities.

1\. A Slow Death

 

It was a lovely warm day at the Dawnstar Spire, a big and magnificent tower overlooking a lake, home to the noble Dawnstar family. Birds sang in the golden trees and a soft breeze rufffled the long valance drapes hung in front of open windows. Around a low table sat three elven women, whose looks were so similiar to each other that they could only be siblings. One was clad in silver plate armor, one wore a light chainmail vest and leather pants and the third wore a gold-embrodiered red robe. A water pipe sat on the table and emitted a sweet smell. There was also a golden teakettle and three dainty cups, as it was time for the afternoon tea. The robed elf performed a magic trick where she made flames dance down her arm without singing her robe and the two others watched with amused expressions. Her honey blond hair hung lose over her shoulders, held back by a bejeweled band. The one in the chainmal had ashblonde hair and seemed to emit an aura of alertness, despite her relaxed demeanor. Finally, the elf in plate had a shock of red hair and lounged in her seat, watching her sisters with a smile. It was clear that she was the eldest of them.

"Have you heard the news, Evenessa?" Asked the elf with ash blonde hair.

"I have, sister. It is troubling, to say the least." Evenessa's brows furrowed with worry. 

"What are you two talking about?" 

Both of the elves turned to look at the third in their round, the young mage had cocked her head to the side and frowned.

"Ah," Evenessa began, "There have been rumors about trouble brewing to the south. I'm sure nothing will come off it. Our guards will be more than capable of handling any intruders."

"The south? You mean the Plague Lands?" The young elf's eyes widened with intrigue. "That is human territory."

"Former human, now the only things that live there are the undead." 

"Alyna, have you recieved any orders?" Evenessa asked the pale haired elf. 

"Lady Sylvanas hasn't told us anything. But... She has been looking rather worried as of late." Alyna leaned back on a pillow and chewed thoughtfully on her lips. "I'm sure we'll hear more soon. How about Lady Liandrin? I hear you two are on good terms."

Evenessa smiled ruefully and shrugged one shoulder. "She's busy and grateful for anybody who takes a bit of work off her hands. That aside, she told me nothing."

"Eve here is going to be training her own squad soon." The young elf grinned and put her chin in her hands. "Ever the over-archiever, huh?"

"Please. Lyna is being tutored by the Ranger General. Talk about over-archieving." 

"Oh come on." Alyna feigned a look of exasperation, but the pleased gleam in her eye betrayed her. 

"What about you, Syronia? When will you start your studies at the Falthrien Academy?" 

Syronia rolled her eyes and twirled a strand of honey blonde hair around her finger. "Mother says I should be studying in Silvermoon, not in some 'provincial retreat'. Father is trying to win her over."

"Right," Alyna put her elbows on the table and gave her younger sister a stern look. "And what about the boy I keep hearing of? Aldonis?"

"Oh!" Syronia blushed. "He's lovely."

"You do know that mother would have your hide if she knew you've been dallying about with a merchant's son?"

Syronia lifted her chin in defiance. "He is a good elf and nothing but courteous and kind."

"They're all like that until they've bedded you," Evenessa snorted. 

Alyna stepped on her foot when Syronia fell quiet and cast her eyes down. Evenessa looked sheepish and rubbed a hand over her mouth. 

"Apologize," Alyna hissed quietly from her corner of her mouth. 

"I didn't mean that." Evenessa ran a hand through her short red hair and sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Whatever," Syronia muttered. 

"I.. I guess I let the rumors and the air of anxiety over Silvermoon get to me. Everyone's a little tense right now."

"It's alright," the young elf sighed. "I get it, you're trying to be a responsible older sister, but your brutish temper got the better of you."

"Hey!"

Alyna laughed when her older sister ruffled Syronia's hair. Eve then turned to her with a gleam in her eye. 

"Oh, by the way. Koltira asked after you. Again."

Alyna fought down the heat that wanted to rise in her cheeks and tried to play it cool.

"Did he? What'd he say?"

A smug grin grew on her older sister's face. Syronia looked on in interest. "Who's Koltira?"

"He's-"

"A new recruit who's from here. One of the cook's sons, I believe." Evenessa talked over her middle sister. "He fights like it's a painful duty instead of an honor. Just enough talent to remain, not enough to advance in the ranks."

Alyna frowned in indignation. "He's not that hopeless."

"And he's had a crush on our dear sister for years." 

"Oooh!" Syronia squealed and put her hands on her cheeks for effect. 

"But what did he say?" Alyna demanded, angry at the flush that rose in her cheeks despite her best efforts.

Evenessa chuckled. "Ah, it was really cute. He tried to be polite, asked me how 'the family' was doing."

"He's just scared of you!" Alyna accused.

"As he should be, since I'm his superior," Evenessa retorted sternly. "And I've turned a blind eye to quite a few blunders of his."

"So what did you say?" Alyna was getting impatient, which only seemed to increase her older sister's amusement. 

"After I told him that you were promised to Magister Zarethras Ebonflame from birth, you mean?"

Alyna paled and clenched her fists. Evenessa's face grew unreadable. Tension sprung up between the two of them and chased away the jovial atmosphere. Syronia grimaced a took a sip of tea. It had to happen sooner or later.

"I did you a favor." The older elf's voice was quiet but firm. "We are more privileged than most, but less free as well. You'd do well to remember your duties."

"Don't lecture me about my duties." Alyna pressed out between clenched teeth. 

Evenessa held her gaze for a few more seconds before she leaned back in her seat and let out a long sigh.

"I told him you're with the Farstriders now, that you're doing excellent and that you're saying 'Hi'."

Various conflicting emotions flickered over Alyna's face before she unclenched her hands and shakily reached for her own cup of tea. 

"Thank you," she muttered.

"Don't mention it," Evenessa replied and closed her eyes with a weary expression. "You know how Zarethras is. If he had any idea he'd challenge Koltira to a duel, if not kill him outright." 

Alyna took a sip of tea and made a face. The magister's obsession with her was well known. For the life of her, she couldn't fathom why he wanted her so badly. She didn't consider herself especially beautiful. It was a small mercy that he'd agreed to let her finish her ranger training before he proposed. A throat cleared nearby before a servant approached with a silver tablet in his hands. 

"Message for Lady Evenessa." He announced and held out the plate with a sealed scroll on it. 

Evenessa took it and thanked him. It bore the seal of the Paladins of Silvermoon. Evenessa took off her plate gauntlets and unrolled it quickly. Both of her sisters watched her eyes widen and alarm settle on her face. Once she was done reading, she wordlessly handed the letter to Alyna. 

"Knight Dawnstar, we have information that you are currently on leave to visit your home. We regret to ask you to cut your vacation short for you are needed in the capital. Lady Liandrin has important news she wishes to share with the order. You are to report to the headquarters immediately. Your remaning days of vacation will be noted and re-located to another date. Senior Commander Sunspear."

Alyna looked up from the letter and met two equally pale and serious faces. Her pulse picked up and a terrible sense of foreboding grew in her chest. She opened her mouth, but the arrival of a brown falcon interrupted her. The animal landed uncerimoniously on the table and looked at her wih intelligent green eyes. Tied to its leg was a small missive. She hastily undid the string and unfolded the letter.

"Recruit Dawnstar, your presence is required in Silvermoon. Urgent news. Leave immediately. S. W., Ranger General."

She drew in a shaky breath and folded the letter. The others were quiet and she avoided their eyes. The feeling of foreboding grew into something viscous and black. 

"No sense delaying any longer," Evenessa sighed and stood up abruptly. "Boy! Have the stablehands prepare my charger. I will leave shortly."

The servant bowed curtly and hurried off. Alyna rose more slowly and looked at both of her sisters. While she had no magical talent to speak of, she felt the leylines in the ground and the whispers in the air. Attuing oneself to the land in an almost druidic fashion was part of being a Ranger. Right now, they were all whispering of a great darkness approaching from the south. It made her restless and anxious to leave. 

"I'll go ready my Hawkstrider myself. As you said, no time to waste," she announced. 

Syronia was the last to stand up. She looked worried, scared and terribly young. Alyna swallowed and pulled her into a quick hug. 

"Tell mother about the trouble in the south. Tell her you should go to Falthrien immediately, for your own safety." She whispered into her ear. "I need you to be safe, sister."

"I will," Syronia whispered back. "May the sun guide you."

Evenessa pulled her gloves back on with a grim expression. "I will go talk to our parents before I leave."

"Then I shall come with you," Syronia said and linked arms with her.

Evenessa turned to Alyna with a deadly serious expression. She swallowed and nodded at her older sister. 

"Take care of yourself, little bird. I will see you in the city."

Alyna couldn't reply, so she just nodded once. While her sisters left in direction of the stairs, she made her way to the armory. Her bow was waiting for her along with a full quiver. Only after a brief hesitation did she grab two shortswords as well. The thought of going face to face with a rotting corpse sent a chill down her spine. Alarmed, she shook her head. Surely there would be no fighting. Surely this would just be a slightly larger than usual raid. The stablehands jumped out of the way when she stormed into the stables. A loud squawk greeted her and she found her black bird with ease. Its red eyes narrowed curiously at her and she took a moment to pat its beak.

"Elas, we need to get to Silvermoon, and fast." She muttered while she stroked his feathers. "Change of plans."

It let out a cluck when she swung herself up in the saddle. She guided it out of the stables and into the afternoon sun. As soon as they left the paved golden path leading from the spire and onto the street she gave Elas the spurs. The bird let out a squawk and began to run. Alyna knew this road by heart, knew that it was safe and well lit, and yet her eyes kept darting towards every sign of movement in the shadows. Anxiety settled over her heart as soon as the shadow of the spire faded into the distance. Foreboding seemed to chase her like a black dog, nipping at her heels. It was almost dark by the time she made it to Silvermoon and Elas was breathing harshly. She ran a hand through the soft feathers on his neck and dismounted swiftly at the gates. The Silvermoon stables were large enough to house all the Paladin's chargers and at least two dozen visitor mounts. A stablehand accepted Elas' reins with a polite smile and then she was already stalking towards the Farstrider's Square. Several people waved at her, but she had only eyes for the road. Silvermoon always had a special energy of its own, but now it buzzed with the collective worry of its inhabitants, making it hard to breathe calmly. A dozen rangers were already inside the main hall and others were continously arriving. Sylvanas was nowhere to bee seen, but Astharia Sunbow, her second in command, watched the recruits from a podium at the back of the hall. Alyna caught the eyes of a few rangers she knew well from the circle of students tutored privately by Sylvanas. Among them were Anya Eversong, Cyndia Hawkspear and Clea Dawnstrider. All of them were her seniors in terms of service, which showed in the way they carried themselves. Alyna nodded at each of them respectfully before Commander Sunbow called for silence. 

"Silence!" She bellowed in an imposing voice, "The Ranger General arrives!"

The whole hall stood at attention when the General strode towards the podium. Commander Sunbow respectfully stepped to the side. The General's face was grim, which in itself was a bad omen. Lady Sylvanas was the most beautiful elf Alyna had ever seen, with perfectly even features and serious blue eyes. Her long blonde hair hung loosely over her shoulders and her blue and gold uniform was immaculate as always. 

"I have gathered you here today to bring you grave news. Many of you have heard the rumors of trouble in the plagued lands." She paused to let her eyes wander over the gathered rangers. "The situation is much worse than anything you might have heard. We're not talking about a band of mindless zombies, come to harass our guards. A full invasion force is gathering in the mountains to the south. Scouts report that their numbers are ever growing and they're moving fast."

A collective gasp went through the crowd. "Surely the Elfgates will hold!" One ranger exclaimed.

"The king is certain that our magic will protect us. Nonetheless, we have been ordered to move into the southern parts of the forest. All of us." She concluded gravely. "We are going to move to the outer Elfgate and slaughter any undead who dares to approach our land."

Alyna listened numbly, feeling like her insides were frozen. This was so much worse than anything she could have imagined. 

"What about the Paladins?" Another voice asked.

"They will remain within the city. Their numbers aren't adequate to repel an invasion and they are not familiar with fighting in the forests, unlike us." Sylvanas replied evenly, but Alyna thought she heard a note of disdain in her voice. "That is all. Gather your weapons and meet me outside the city. We will depart immediately. Dismissed."

The rangers saluted and once the General left the hall erupted into whispers. Alyna left the room to gather a few potions at the storage. Her stomach was twisted with nerves, so she paid little attention to her surroundings. Evenessa would be safe inside the city and Syronia would be on her way to Falthrien now, she thought. It was doubtful that her parents had left the Spire, but they would be safe. The Rangers were going to repel the undead and things would go back to normal. Alyna wanted to believe that with all her might. As she rounded a corner, she nearly ran into a young elf who had been leaning agaist the wall. 

"Oh, pardon me." She muttered.

"Lady Alyna?"

She looked up and her heart jumped in her chest when she recognized Koltira Sunweaver. The young elf's eyes widened slightly before a delighted smile broke out on his face. 

"Koltira. What are you doing here?" She quickly looked around to make sure no one was watching. "Shouldn't you be with the Paladins?"

He stepped closer with a sheepish shrug. "Lady Evenessa gave me permission to come see you."

"Oh."

There was an awkward pause where they just looked at each other. Alyna hadn't forgotten the kisses they shared in the shady corners of the Dawnstar Spire. She couldn't help but notice the way he changed in the year since she last saw him. For one, he was now a full head taller and filled his frame more comfortably than the gangly youth she remebered. His shoulders were broad and he held himself up straight. The baby fat had left his face and revealed nice cheekbones. Blond hair now fell freely around his shoulders. Despite herself, her heart began to thud in her chest and she was painfully aware that she never bothered to apply makeup when she was on duty. Alyna quickly tucked a few stray hairs behind her ears, embarrassed about its windswept state. At last, he cleared his throat and withdrew something from his pocket. 

"I want you to have this." He said almost shyly and held out a gold ring on a delicate chain. 

Alyna felt the blood rush to her cheeks and hated herself a little. "I.."

She knew what this meant and hated that she couldn't have it. His expression grew uncertain at her hesitation. 

"My sister has told you of my.. circumstances." She paused and looked down.

Koltira drew in a breath, but didn't withdraw his hand. "Lady Evenessa also told me that some things are worth fighting for."

Alyna's head snapped up and her eyes widened at the flushed look of determination on his face. She felt her heart swell with impossible hope and slowly reached for the ring. When the tips of her fingers brushed his palm, she thought she felt a spark run up her arm. A beautful smile broke out on his face and she never took her eyes off him while she put the chain around her neck.

"I shall keep this, then." She stated softly after she put the ring beneath her tunic. "Thank you."

The taller elf reached out and let the tips of his fingers brush against her cheek in a feather light caress. 

"No, thank you." He replied softly.

Alyna swallowed and smiled brightly, despite the fluttery feeling in her stomach. Koltira withdrew his hand and straightened his posture. 

"I've kept you long enough." He said with a wink. "If you're amenable, we should talk more once you return."

"I would like that." Alyna smiled.

"Good luck," he said and strode off with a new spring in his step.

Alyna watched him leave and silently thanked her older sister. Her most immediate concern were the undead, but once that threat had been dealt with she would talk to her mother. Even if it meant getting disowned. Anything would be better than to be bound in a loveless marriage with some Magister she'd barely seen a handful of times. Alyna shook her head and made her way to the storage. 

The Eversong Forest was quiet, almost too quiet. Once they crossed the Elrendar river not even the birds were singing in the trees. It sent shivers down her spine as she moved along with the other Rangers. Sylvanas ordered parts of her forces to guard strategic points in the forest, so the bulk of the rangers was split up. They were headed south, past Tranquillien and towards a village bordering on the southern mountains. The scout sent by Sylvanas hadn't returned yet and a line of worry had appeared on the older elf's face. Alyna tried her best to imitate the unfazed stoic look of her three fellow students. The four of them were ordered to follow Sylvanas closely and they were the first line along with a dozen senior rangers. As they neared the valley where the village was located, Alyna began to notice a foul stench in the air. 

"Undead ahead," Clea muttered next to her. 

"Keep to the shadows," Sylvanas commanded as they approached the tree line. 

The rangers spread out and hid in the trees. A gruesome sight greeted them when the view was clear. Where once the village stood was now an assembly of rough, sinister looking buildings. The air was humming with foul magic and the ground stained red with blood. Mangled bodies and severed limbs littered the streets. Two huge deformed abominations guarded the entrance to the village. Alyna felt sick when she saw more and more undead crawl down the mountain. They brought horrible looking wagons with them, stained red with blood and laden with meat. 

"We need to find their leader and eliminate him," Anya supplied from her perch next to the General.

"If we cut off the head of the beast, the rest will scatter." Sylvanas narrowed her eyes at the undead. "Rangers, we attack now. Kill the abominations to draw out their leader."

This was familiar. Alyna let her mind clear until only movement and reaction existed. Lining up an arrow, aiming at her prey and letting it fly in anticipation of its movement. It took a dozen arrows to bring down the hulking behemoths, but once they were slain dispatching the ghouls was simple enough. An icy shiver ran down her spine when a pale human in heavy black armor stepped out of a building. An air of malevolence surrounded him and his big sword like an icy torrent. Sylvanas went to confront him directly, fury on her face.

"You, human! Withdraw your forces or face the wrath of the High Elves!" She declared loudly, her voice ringing out over the fallen ghouls. 

"Your idle threats mean nothing to me, little elf." His voice echoed hollowly. "Stand aside or I shall slaughter all of you."

When he raised his blade, it felt like it was sucking the life out of its very surroundings. Alyna raised her bow in alarm, but Cynthia shook her head minutely. Blood was rushing through her veins and she bit the inside of her cheek to stop her hands from trembling. How could this one human induce so much terror in her? 

"Arise, minions!" He bellowed and the fallen ghouls began to move again.

Groaning and slobbering, they put their fallen limbs back together and stood up once more. Alyna let out a small gasp when the human's sword began to emit the same pale blue glow that filled the eyes of the monsters surrounding them. 

"We will never surrender our home to you, monster!" Sylvanas declared boldly and lined an arrow on her bow. 

"Then you will die." The undead human hissed.

Dozens of ghouls began to rush at them and Alyna had no time to panic, she just fired arrow after arrow until her quiver began to feel dangerously empty. Yet, the stream of undead coming at them did not let up. Reinforcements crawled down the mountains and the dead human watched impassively as they fought for their lives. Sylvanas fought with the fury of three elves, first firing searing arrows from her bow and when her quiver ran empty she unsheathed two sunforged shortblades. It became clear all too quickly that they were no match for the army of the undead. No matter their skill, the sheer numbers stacked against them would overwhelm them sooner or later. Sylvanas seemed to realize this and shouted at them to retreat. Alyna had to jump over a ghoul, slashing at its head with one of her blades, to escape the ring of monsters surrounding her. One of the senior rangers was not so lucky and got struck down by a lumbering skeleton. Alyna's heart ached for her as they ran for the trees. Soon after the howling and groaning of the dead was lost beneath the trees, the rangers slowed down a bit. Everyone looked stricken at the loss of one of their own and it only began to sink in that more would follow. Anya was visibly fighting to keep it together and Alyna wasn't doing much better. Sylvanas seemed to be taking it the hardest. Her usually calm face was lined with sorrow and fury.

"We must regroup further in the forest. It can't be helped; we have lost ground." She declared angrily. 

"Poor Ithariel, I knew her since we were recruits," one of the senior rangers lamented.

"She fought bravely. Her sacrifice will not be forgotten." Sylvanas lowered her head. "There will be time for mourning later. We must stop the Scourge from advancing any further."

The ranger who had spoken up nodded with tears in her eyes. A great crash in the distance startled the birds from the trees. The rangers looked up in alarm when another crash followed.

"They are cutting down the trees!" Cynthia cried out.

Alyna paled and looked beseechingly at the General. Sylvanas' face hardened into a mask of grim fury. 

"There is a small outpost nearby. Gather more arrows and get ready for battle!" She bellowed.

The outpost was more like a small hovel filled with arrows and spare blades. Alyna filled her quiver with her lips pressed together to keep her breathing under control. A crash close to the outpost made her jump to her feet. 

"They're here," she hissed.

A meatwagon crashed through the forest, followed by a herd of ghouls and skeletons. Alyna aimed carefully at the eye of the nearest ghoul and let her arrow fly. It went down with a growl. They battled once more until they nearly ran out of ammunition, but it didn't slow the onslaught. Sylvanas ordered their retreat before the undead could surround them. The same thing happened three more times, until Alyna realized that they were being pushed back to the outer Elfgate. They had lost six more rangers in increasingly vicious assaults and everyone's hearts were sinking. Clea and Cynthia were in shock over the loss of Anya, who had fallen to an abomination's meathook and screamed her lungs out as her guts were ripped from her. Alyna kept seeing her death over and over again. For some reason, her hands wouldn't stop shaking. She chanced a look at the Ranger General, whose face was a blank mask. They were forced to retreat to the gate and watched the scourge clear a path through their sacred woods, leaving naught but carnage and blackened earth in their wake. Soon they realized that all fallen elves had been reanimated and now bolstered the Scourge's ranks. The air carried a foul, tained scent and whatever wildlife hadn't been killed fled the woods in droves. There were twelve rangers left plus the General. The other Fardstrider groups were stationed at various points in the forest behind the gate, but they had no way of warning them. The undead human who led the army appeared once more, a cruel smirk on his face. To his sides appeared the meatwagons, ready to launch boulders at the gate. 

"Face it, elf. You have already lost." He taunted. 

"Never!" Sylvanas shouted back defiantly. "Rangers, fire!"

Alyna raised her bow along with everyone else and aimed it at one of the undead elves with the vague hope that it would end their suffering. A volley of arrows rained into the scourge ranks, but others simply trampled over the fallen corpses. 

"Enough of this. Breach the gate!" The human bellowed and raised his blade. 

On his command, the meatwagons launched their boulders. The gate shook and trembled, but held fast. Alyna covered her head to protect it from the rubble raining down on them. Sylvanas's voice was trembling slightly when she yelled at them to retreat. 

"You may have breached this gate, but you will never destroy the second one, fiend!" She screamed at the human. "Quel'Thalas will never bow to you!"

Alyna couldn't think straight, so she simply ran along with the others. Behind them the crashes continued until the gate finally gave way with a mighty groan. Her heart felt like it shattered along with the gate when she thought of the villages now defenseless against the onslaught of the undead. They had failed to protect the gate and now innocents would pay with their lives. It was unbearable.

"Retreat to the second gate," Sylvanas ordered tonelessly. 

No one bothered to answer. They all followed her lead, because it was the only thing they could do now. The forest looked so tranquil, unaware of the horror that was about to descend upon it. Sylvanas led them onto the street passing Tranquilien and sent one of the remaining senior rangers to evacuate the village into the eastern woods, hopefully far away from the Scourge's path. Alyna's heart skipped a beat when she realized that the Dawnstar Spire lay to the east, behind the grand lake. Maybe the villagers would be safe there. When they reached the great bridge over Elrendar river Sylvanas stopped them. 

"Go on ahead without me. Split up and warn as many outposts as possible. I will confront the cursed human and hold them up."

"But General!" Cynthia protested. "What about you?"

"Do as I say," she snarled. "It's the only way to stop them. Once you have delivered your message, meet me at An'daroth and bring any Rangers you find with you." 

Alyna stared at her in horror, but she had been trained well. After a brief discussion it was decided that she would go to Fairbreeze Village, which was an important job since it was one of the biggest settlements in the northern forest. Sylavanas planted herself on the bridge and pulled her shoulders back in the face of the approaching army. Alyna tore her eyes off her and started running. It was early morning and the village was still sleepy. People were just starting to leave their homes when she came bolting down the street. Rangers Sareyn and Degolien stared at her in horror when she delivered her message. Magistrix Dawnstrider listened with narrowed eyes and told her aide to being evacuation immediately. 

"The Ranger General plans to confront the leader of the undead?" She asked sharply. 

"I believe she plans to delay him." Alyna replied, trying and failing to hide her distress, "I must go immediately."

"I understand. Best of luck to you, Ranger. Your warning will save many lives." 

Alyna saw Anya die in front of her eyes again and nodded mutely. The two young Rangers were waiting for her outside and together they began their march towards An'daroth. Alyna knew that one of the parts for the Key of Three Moons was hidden there and didn't want to imagine what would happen if the undead human got his hands on it. On the way, they met up with Cynthia and the dozen rangers following her. 

"Cynthia, glad to see you." She greeted the older elf.

"And you, Alyna." 

There was a magically hidden bridge over the river which Cynthia set aflame as soon as they'd crossed it. They could already hear the groaning and squealing of the meatwagon tires when they reached An'daroth. Sylvanas was waiting in the middle of the small outpost, surrounded by roughly three dozen Farstriders. Her heart grew heavy when she realized that this must be all that was left of them. 

"General," she called, "We are here."

"Good." Sylvanas nodded curtly. "So is the Scourge. Prepare yourselves for battle. The Key of Three Moons must not fall into their hands."

A nearby building exploded into a shower of rubble that had them duck instinctively. A score of ghouls fell upon them, but they were easily cut down. Bigger skeletons and abominations followed, as well as strange dog-like creatures that flung bolts of dark magic at them. The battle was fierce and Alyna got to bloody her blades for the first time when she ran out of arrows. She soon saw the scourge convene upon them from all sides and fought her way to the General. 

"We must retreat," she yelled as she cut down a ghoul which tried to sneak up on Sylvanas, "There are too many!"

Sylvanas let out a hearty curse and followed her gaze to the undead closing in around them. Her heart fluttered in fear when she saw the helpless rage in the General's eyes. The undead human was fighting his way towards them, cutting down elves with strikes of his terrible blade. 

"Retreat!" Sylvanas screamed, her voice carrying over the clashing of metal, "Retreat to the forest!"

Alyna ran alongside the General, the undead at their heels. Her heart sunk when she saw how few of the other rangers escaped the slaughter. They had to be less than two dozen now. Cynthia and Clea where nowhere to be seen, but surely they would follow..  
It took longer that ever to lose the undead inbetween the golden trees and they converged at a small outpost. Everyone looked tired and miserable. Alyna filled her quiver, walked around the building and threw up in the bushes. Her heart was beating like a drum and the bile tasted sour in her mouth. Even with her superior training she was beyond exhausted. The elf wiped a hand over her mouth and leaned against the back wall of the outpost to catch her breath. A few leaves rustled nearby and Cynthia stumbled out of the bushes. Her face was wet with tears and Alyna quickly walked over to prop her up. 

"They got Clea," she sobbed breathlessly.

A sharp hiss left Alyna's mouth and she rubbed a hand over Cynthia's back. 

"Let's get you some water," she muttered and helped her walk to the front, where the rest of the rangers were sitting. 

Sylvanas took one look at them and came over to personally hand Cynthia a flask of water. 

"They'll pay for this," she said solemnly. "I swear it."

Cynthia drank gratefully and passed the flask to Alyna, who took the chance to wash the sour taste out of her mouth. It was cold comfort, but the only sort they could have right now. 

"Look alive, rangers." Sylvanas commanded sharply. "We have a long march in front of us. It is imperative that we make it to the inner elfgate before the scourge."

"With all due respect, we are exhausted, hungry and wounded. There's no way we can make it that far without some rest." One of the younger rangers spoke up. 

"If the Scourge does not rest, we cannot afford to, either." A harsh bite was in the General's voice and Alyna noticed the dark circles beneath her eyes for the first time. "We must protect Silvermoon, or thousands of innocents will be slaughtered. Failure is not an option."

The young ranger looked chastened and sank back down on the ground. Alyna's legs felt leaden and her throat raw, but she still followed the General's sharp pace. The rest of the rangers stood up with muffled groans and curses. Cynthia was quiet and miserable. She'd known Anya and Clea only for a short time, but they seemed to have been very close. A heavy weight settled in her chest and she looked at her feet as she walked. It took until the sun had sunk low before they saw the first spires of the great city in the distance. Silvermoon, the beating heart of the Quel'dorei and home to thousands of defenseless elves. Alyna's heart was weary with ache over their losses and she feared deeply for the city's fate. Despite the General's words, everyone knew they were running rather than retreating. What hope was there to stop the sheer numbers of the undead? Their leader would just raise the fallen, again and again. Who was this human? For some reason he seemed familiar, like an image from another time. 

"Do you know the name of the one who leads the Scourge?" She asked Cynthia in a quiet moment.

The older elf let out a shuddering sigh. "He is the fallen prince of the human kingdom called Lordaeron, Arthas Menethil. We don't know how he became undead."

Alyna hung her head. This was dire news. Sylvanas led them to the inner gate, where a contingent of paladins was already stationed. Her heart sank when she saw that Koltira wasn't among them. When they saw the Farstriders approach, their eyes widened.

"Ranger General," one of them called, "What news do you bring?"

Sylvanas drew up to her full height. "What news? Do you not have eyes? The scourge is coming and they are legion. Prepare for battle and defend the gate at all costs."

"Of course," he saluted quickly. 

The other paladins and guards began to look nervous. Sylvanas paid them no mind and led her rangers inside the gates. The Farstriders had an outpost within the outskirts of the city where they stored weapons and food, both direly needed right now. Alyna sat down at a corner table with Cynthia, but both of them didn't quite manage to eat the bread and cheese they'd been given. The older elf was staring into space with a sad expression and Alyna pushed the square of cheese around on her plate. Anya's death replayed in front of her eyes, the next time it was Koltira whose body was torn apart. Her stomach twisted and she touched the gold ring beneath her tunic. Her eyes closed and she prayed to the light that they both make it out of this alive. There was a conversation that needed to happen and a promise to be kept. When her eyes opened, Cynthia was looking at her curiously.

"What are you doing?"

"Praying," she replied.

"You believe it'll help?" Cynthia asked neutrally.

"I.. I need to believe in something." Alyna whispered.

Cynthia put a hand on hers. "I'm going to tell you something Anya told me when I joined the Farstriders. Believe in the Ranger General. Sylvanas will lead us to victory."

Alyna stared at her. Cynthia had a faraway expression on her face and her blue eyes were unreadable. Something must have broken in her after her friends died. She looked around at the exhausted, weary faces of her comrades and reconsidered the wisdom of her words. They were all here because of Sylvanas. Every retreat had been more bitter than the last, but it had saved their lives. The General sat at a table by herself and pored over a map of Quel'thalas. Alyna belatedly realized that her second in command was nowhere to be seen, which could only mean that she was dead. Out of all of them, Sylvanas had to feel their losses the most keenly. A small flame of loyalty burst to life within her. 

"Excuse me," she said as she stood up from the table.

The General didn't notice her approach until she put down a plate with bread, cheese and dried fruits in front of her. 

"What's the meaning of this?" 

"Please eat something, General. You have been tireless in leading us so far, but once the Scourge approaches you'll need all your strenght." Alyna said.

Sylvanas blinked at her before she reached for a piece of cheese. "Thank you, recruit."

Alyna peered at the map detailing Silvermoon city. Even to her eyes it looked woefully unsuited for defense against a siege. The open squares and high towers offered no real protection against the terrible meatwagons. 

"May I ask where Commander Sunbow is?" She spoke up.

"I sent the Commander and her squad to defend Sunstrider Isle. It appears no word of the impending siege has reached her. The Scourge must have intercepted my messengers somehow. Just as well. The Scourge will be here before they are." 

All conversation stopped when the earth began to rumble with the approach of the army of undead. Sylvanas looked grim when she stood up. 

"Farstriders, we move to protect the gates. I won't leave this to the handful of Paladins they saw fit to send here!" 

Alyna checked her bow out of habit and fell into step with the General as she led them through a small side exit. The undead were so close they could see the trees fall before them and hear the hungry moans of the ghouls. The Paladins looked extraordinarily relieved to see them and parted to let them take position behind their lines. Alyna felt sick to her stomach when the first meatwagon broke through the trees. It seemed they had been outfitted with long metal spikes at the front to deter attackers or topple trees more easily. To everyone's horror, there were now undead elves among the Scourge ranks. Their bodies were badly mangled and bleeding sluggishly, their eyes filled with the same pale blue glow as the rest of the Scourge. She looked around for Cynthia and saw her quiver visibly. Sylvanas shouted at them to raise their bows, so they did. As before, the hail of arrows felled the front lines of the approaching army. As soon as the first ghould hit the ground, the ones behind them marched on without mercy. Row after row of undead fell, but their numbers never lessened. Smoke rose from the scar they left behind and fear for the woods filled her with heavy dread. Abominations emerged onto the battlefield and the Paladin's leader yelled at them to charge. Alyna glued her eyes to the smaller dog-like creatures who began to cast their vile spells. Every time a Paladin fell, her heart beat faster with fear. The undead gained foot after foot of ground until they were nearly pressed up against the gate. It was then their leader appeared. The undead human's heavy black armor was adorned with skulls and his pale hair floated behind him like a banner. The pale blue glow filled his eyes and the runes on his blade. He personally cut down the last five Paladins without so much as a fight. He drew forth a key, which hummed with ancient magic. 

"At last this city will be ours!" He yelled. "Nothing will stand against the Scourge and hope to triumph! Your hope is pointless! Witness the fall of your pathetic city and tremble!"

The key glowed bright like a small star and the gate crumbled with a deafening crash. Some Farstriders were struck down by the boulders that rained down upon them. Alyna was nearly deafened by the explosion, but she still heard Sylvanas' screams for retreat. She stumbled through the fallen rubble and only belatedly realized that the tendon in her bow had ripped. She strapped it on her back and moved on on unsteady legs. Another ranger grabbed her arm and helped her run after the General. They crossed a river that ran through the park leading to the main city and hastily set up camp between some trees. The scourge rolled through the broken gate like a black wave and began to raise their grotesque buildings on the other side of the river. In the assault, the Rangers managed to take out two of the meatwagons, which appeared to slow the Scourge's approach somewhat. Sylvanas set up a guard rotation and ordered the remaining Rangers to get as much rest as they could. Some elves simply dropped to the ground in exhaustion, while others leaned against trees or curled up beneath blankets. Silvermoon proper was at least an hour away, but now that the gate had fallen it was completely defenseless. Alyna sat down with her back against a tree and rubbed a hand over her face. Two days without sleeping caught up to her and left her dazed and numb. She watched the General send out messengers to alert the city and ask for reinforcements and wondered quietly which reinforcements she meant. Only the Paladins remained within the city, every single Farstrider had gone with Sylvanas and the city guards were hardly equipped to deal with this. Before she knew it, her eyes fluttered closed. 

"What do you mean, they've been picked off?!"

An angry shout made Alyna jerk from sleep and she looked around confusedly until she realized where she was. A few other rangers blinked and rubbed at their eyes. Night had fallen on Quel'thalas and a big bonfire had been lit in their camp. Sylvanas was pacing in front of a harried looking ranger. 

"This is unacceptable!" She snapped, "If word doesn't reach Silvermoon, everyone will die! How could this happen?"

"I-I saw a flying monster pick up Erean and drop her from the sky." The ranger stammered. 

"Why did you not shoot it down?"

"It had magic, milady! It burned my arrows before they reached it."

"Dismissed." Sylvanas barked and the ranger ran off. 

Alyna stood up and stretched. Her back was stiff from sleeping against the tree and she felt cold to the bone. When Sylvanas spotted her she waved her over. 

"Recruit Dawnstar. Our messengers have been intercepted and Silvermoon lies unaware of the impending attack. It's up to us to keep the Scourge at bay. There's an ancient stone bridge crossing the river, we can use that as a chokehold. If we engage the undead in skirmishes, those flying creatures might be distracted and let a runner through."

Alyna nodded slowly. "The Runner could slip through if they cloak themselves in shadow."

A grim little smile appeared on the General's face. "Exactly. It's all we can do now. I'm going to send Cynthia out."

Her eyes widened. "But she's one of our best archers!"

"Our losses have hit her hard. Anya was like a big sister to her." The General lowered her voice. "Not one of her arrows has hit its mark since we lost the other two. She's becoming a liability."

Alyna swallowed and nodded slowly. The broken look in the older elf's eyes had made her suspect as much. 

"You're the only student of mine I can rely on now. That is why I want you by my side when we begin the assaults on the undead camp."

"My bow," Alyna cleared her throat, "The bowstring ripped."

Sylvanas looked pensive for a moment. "I'm sure there are some spares now."

She didn't meet the General's eyes and nodded. A bow was a Ranger's most prized possession. It was highly customized and fitted for its owner alone. Fighting with somebody else's weapon was night impossible without practice. They both knew it, but there was no other choice. Alyna went to the stack of weapons they'd collected off their fallen comrades and tried different bows. She was close to giving up when she found one made of dark wood. It was light and the grip fit her hand. The weight and bowstring resistance were not optimal, but they'd do. She didn't ask whom it belonged to and returned to the General's side. Sylvanas had gathered a dozen Rangers around her.

"We do not engage their main forces, this will be a hit and run. Ideally we'll take out a few meatwagons as well. Solana, you have the charges."

"Yes, General," the elf in question replied and lifted up two small dynamite charges.

The General smiled grimly and turned towards the stone bridge. "Let's go."

The assaults went less than ideally. They lost three Rangers and only managed to explode one meatwagon before Solana was slain by an abomination. Sylvanas sounded a hasty retreat and they regrouped at camp. Alyna only felt a numb horror at the death that was ever-present anymore. Three new Rangers joined the group and they went again. Three more times, then the Scourge started pushing towards their camp in earnest. Arthas, the undead human, made an appearance in their front rows. After a brief and bloody stalemate the Ranger's resistance began to falter and the Scourge crossed the bridge. Alyna let loose arrow after arrow, but it was difficult and took more of her concentration now. It didn't stop the human in the slightest. With seemingly no effort he cut down all in his path. His glowing eyes were fixed on Sylvanas, who fought like an elf possessed. Nothing mattered anymore and soon nothing stood between Alyna and the advancing human. Black terror filled her when he stood before her and she dropped the bow to reach for her blades. Her weapons were flimsy in comparison to his massive runeblade. It crashed down against hers and the sheer force of his blow shattered the blades. A sharp pain ran down both her arms from blocking him and she let out a cry. There was nothing in his eyes at all when he brought the blade down a second time. 

"AAAAAHHH!!" She shrieked in when it tore through her chest.

Agony ripped through her and robbed her of clear thought. She was dimly aware that her body hit the ground and the knight walked past her. Blood filled her mouth, choking her. Darkness closed in on the edges of her vision and her mind flashed memories of her life before her. She saw her family, happy and safe, Silvermoon in all its glory and the first time Koltira kissed her in the garden of the Dawnstar Spire. They were just children then. Alyna's vision swam with tears at the inevitable end. She wasn't finished yet, she wasn't done living, why did this happen to her, why-


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death is not the end of the road for Alyna.

2\. Reborn in Shadow

 

Her second life began in darkness and agony. Once her vision had faded to black, a freezing pale blue light erupted all around her. Alyna's soul was slowly ripped from her dying body. The pain was bright hot and so intense it burned away everything and only left behind an empty void. Once the soul had been severed from the corpse and hovered over the fallen body, a deep voice spoke up.

"You are now a servant of the Lich King. Arise and carry out his will!"

Magic of the blackest kind seeped into the soul and twisted it into a grotesque mockery of its former elven shape. Eyes blinked open and looked down at a pair of etheral white hands. Further down, her torso was floating on a sphere of energy. No legs. The twisted image of the elf felt nothing, numbed by the shock of her transistion. Gradually she became aware of the horde of undead around her, paying her no mind. Confusion and white hot anger filled her in a flash of clarity. This was all wrong, what happened to her, who was she?

"Be quiet." The threatening voice filled her mind whit pale blue light until her emotions burned away. "You serve a new master. All must bow before the Lich King."

The soul's will was taken from her and she was left with nothing. She aimlessly floated along with the horde as it moved towards a city in the distance. Other beings that looked like her appeared by her side. The soul did not care. All that mattered was the Lich King's will, and his will was to take this city. Her mind gradually filled with instructions to fight and kill all elves in her path, so she did.

The banshees, along with the rest of the undead army, followed Arthas' lead to the Sunwell where the fallen prince resurrected his master. Kel'tuzad was reborn as a lich, since his mortal remains were too rotten to reanimate. After the deed was done they left the broken city behind and marched back into the south. Arthas instructed the lich to take them to Lordaeron while he himself would sail across the ocean to Kalimdor. Kel'tuzad headed the army alongside Sylvanas, who was now a banshee. Something stirred in the soul at that sight, but it was quickly repressed. Days blurred together, meaningless to the dead. Eventually they reached the remains of a great city deep in the silent woods of the Tirisfal Glades. They marched through the ruin until they reached a series of lifts in the chambers behind the throne room. The lich divded them neatly to fit into each of the round lifts. The banshees were herded together by Sylvanas. While they slowly descended into the damp underbelly of the city, the soul noticed that Sylvanas' soul burned more brightly than any other. Her eyes seemed to glow red with rage despite the Lich King's control. It then made sense to defer to her, especially seeing as she was now one of Arthas' lieutenants. Once the lift stopped they entered a short hallway which opened up into a great cavernous room. While it had clearly severd as catacombs to the humans, it was as big as a second city below the one on the surface. The cavern itself was round and two galleries circled around it. The galleries were connected by sets of stairs and on the floor was a round sewer. Sylvanas led them down and over a narrow bridge crossing the rank water. Openings in the sides revealed that great round hallways had been carved into the rock around the main cavern. The hallways themselves opened up again and revealed that even further in the rock were four great plazas. One of them led even deeper into a round room. That was where Sylvanas stopped.

"We are now in the Undercity," her etheral voice echoed from the walls. "It is here where we wait for the master's return. This shall be the seat of his new kingdom. The kingdom of the undead!"

The banshees all bowed to her. Sylvanas looked at each of them with satisfaction.

"Sisters, you must not defer to me. Kel'tuzad is our leader."

The 'for now' was implied. The soul glanced at the others, but none of them looked worried or curious. All of them were content to follow the one Banshee who knew her name and seemed to hold a measure of authority. If this was the master's will, she would follow. 

Time passed and the soul found herself wandering and exploring the Undercity further. Time was a meaningless construct that was only measured by mortals. Kel'tuzad kept to his chambers and the undead in the city either did nothing or shuffled crates with supplies around. One day, three sinister presences appeared somewhere nearby. The soul also felt Sylvanas close to them, so they were no enemies at last. The soul floated about aimlessly until another presence approached the city like a tidal wave. Every undead stopped in their tracks and looked up when they felt Arthas approach the three outsiders. Soon after, they disappeared. Arthas went to the main cavern and his servants rushed to gather on the floors below him. 

"Servants of the scourge! Hear my call!" He shouted, "Today we purge Lordaeron of all that lives, in the name of Ner'zhul!"

A roar greeted him, but the lich quickly floated up to where Arthas was standing.

"Master, don't act hastily. Human refugees from the outlying villages are fleeing through the mountain passages. Should they escape, they will be nigh impossible to track."

"Very well, lich." Arthas growled and raised his blade. "Sylvanas, to me!"

The banshee floated up to his side, followed by the others at a respectful distance. 

"We shalll divde the forces between us. I know of three possible escape routes through the mountains. Those puny humans will not get away!"

"As you wish, my lord." Sylvanas replied smoothly and beckoned her banshees. 

"You'll go to the passage in the east, bordering on the Western Plaguelands, and slaughter any who try to get away! Destroy their villages! Leave them no hole to hide in!"

Sylvanas bowed shortly. They flew off and it was still strange, in an abstract way, to fly. When they descended on the fleeing humans they were greeted by horrfied screams. The banshees tore them apart with their bare hands, immune to the humans' weak swords. Sylvanas cast spells that made her victims scream in agony before they fell and rose as undead minions. After the refugees were dealt with, they met up with Arthas and Kel'tuzad for a final assault on a paladin stronghold. Even the holy men had no chance against that many undead. Arthas looked grimly triumphant when the last of them fell. Sylvanas bowed again, almost mockingly, when he dismissed her with the order to return to the Undercity. The soul carefully observed the banshee leader. She seemed changed, somehow. 

There were many hidden places in the Undercity. Old musty passages, unused corridors and dark corners. The soul was growing restless with an urge to find out her own name. At some point, she'd realized that every banshee used to have one, not only Sylvanas. As the iron-clad dominion on her mind began to weaken gradually, she felt the desire to uncover hers. It was officially forbidden for any low-ranking scourge member to wish for an identiy, so she had to be very careful about it. There was an undead human named Garrett Eden who used to be an archivist. Through careful inquiry, she found out that he too was slowly regaining his free will. She negotiated a meeting in an unlit hallway apart from the others. It was as good a start as any. 

"Ah," he startled when she materialized in front of him. 

"Do you have it?" She asked.

"Mylady, information such as this is already difficult to uncover when you're human. Records of elves barely exist in our archieves as it is.."

"You don't have anything," she realized with growing disappointment. 

Eden sighed and adjusted his monocle in front of the one eye he had left. The left side of his face was badly mangled and she could see his teeth through the hole in his cheek. His skin was sickly green, but otherwise he still looked fairly unharmed. 

"It is likely that the only place your name could be is Quel'thalas. I would suggest looking for gravestones, see if anything triggers any memories." He quickly glanced around and lowered his voice even further. "With the recent.. changes.. there might be an opportunity to slip away unnoticed at some point."

"I appreciate your effort," she replied coldly and let herself turn invisible.

The undead blinked and looked around while she flew up into the rafters, where sunlight occasionally fell in through heavy iron grates. A torrent of rage and grief tore through her and she felt a wail raise up. Unwilling to alert anyone to her distress, she flew up through the grates until she was alone, surrounded by dark forest. Only then did the eardrum shattering scream tear lose from her throat. A faint bat screech was her only response. Fuelled by fury, she tore at the bark of the nearest tree, tore it to shreds with her claws. This unnatural, pitiful existance was worth nothing, nothing at all. More than ever, she saw undeath for the curse it was. As soon as the throught passed her mind, she quickly shut her emotions down and slammed up mental shields. If anyone heard, if the Lich King had heard... She quickly sank down through the dark ground until she was back in the Undercity. Deflated, she floated into Sylvanas' chamber. The other banshees were milling about silently, likely communicating mentally. It was something they'd discovered they could do, link their consciousness together. Most often, Sylvanas used this mental channel to issue orders to them. The soul wasn't certain she was calm enough to open herself yet, but an impatient voice battered at her shields. 

'You forget that I can see through your eyes, if I so choose.'

'Lady Sylvanas.... I..'

'You are right to doubt.'

The soul had not expected that. 

'All of you have names.' Sylvanas now addressed everyone. 'All of them remain in Quel'thalas, the land where we died. We will go and find them soon.'

An excited clamor rose up in her mind. 

'But first we must kill Arthas. The Lich King's power wanes and set me and many others free from his direct control. None of us shall be slaves again!'

Silence followed. Then, it was as if a heavy weight was lifted from the soul. The banshees let out sighs and gasps as they regained their freedom. 

'Hail Sylvanas!'

'Hail the Banshee Queen!'

'Yes my sisters, I have freed you from this yoke. However, we must pretend to be servants still. The dreadlords plan to kill Arthas here in the city, but I know him. He is fierce and clever, and it would be foolish to underestimate him. We need a contigency plan. This is where you come in....'

As expected, Arthas escaped the dreadlord's ambush. A group of banshees escorted him out of the city. The soul was not among them, as she and several others had been ordered to keep an eye on the dreadlords. While Sylvanas had allied herself with them, the vile demons were not to be trusted. The one named Detheroc was furious that the ambush failed and immediately left the city. The soul traced him to a human settlement far in the north of the Western Plaguelands. It wasn't safe to follow him past the gates, as the humans were numerous and their senses keen. She returned to Tirisfal, where she felt Sylvanas's glowing soul, to give her report. The banshee queen was not happy. Her prey had escaped and a dozen of her loyal banshees had been slaughtered by the lich. Awe filled her remaining sisters as they saw that Sylvanas had regained her physical body. They glided around her, admiring her unmarred skin and hair. Finally, the queen calmed down and told them about the things she'd learned from the lich and his necromancers. Many an hour passed as she taught them spells and incantations.

'Alas, the natural world will no longer heed our call. No living animal will follow us, nor will the forest shield us. There are two choices left: Either give up and leave things be, or take matters into your own hands.' Sylvanas lifted her chin and spread her arms. 'Seize power and control, sisters. Why should we be left hapless, ripe pickings for our enemies, when we have the means to fight? Allow me to teach you darker arts so that we may hunt side by side once more!'

No banshee refused her offer. Sylvanas cracked a smile for the first time since she died. The rest of the week was spent teaching them how to control minds, how to possess living things, how to cast vicious curses. When she felt that they were prepared enough, she rallied her forces and they began to scout the outer wilds of Tirisfal. There were many suitable creatures to join them. Gnolls, ogres and a few humans formed the Banshee Queen's new army, after their leaders had been possessed. The dreadlord Varimathras attacked them, but was quickly defeated. Only when he offered Sylvanas an alliance was his life spared. The second dreadlord had an army of humans protecting him. With Varimathras' help, they brought him down. Garithos, the leader of the humans who had been possessed, agreed to help them once the dreadlord was slain. Balnazzar, the last remaining dreadlord, was holed up in the heart of the Undercity along with a sizable force of demons.

"Why should I help you and your abnormal allies?" Garithos inquired with a disgusted sneer.

"If you help us slay the deadlord, I shall relinquish control over Tirisfal to you and your allies," Sylvanas replied. "Your kingdom will be once more."

He pondered this and rubbed his beard. It was obvious that he was as condescending as he was blind, since he agreed quickly. Sylvanas smiled again, a small and sinister thing. The humans would attack from the rear while Varimathras and Sylvanas led the charge from the front. It was a long and bloody battle. At the end, Sylvanas asked Varimathras to slay his brother. The dreadlord hesitated.

"It is forbidden for one Nathrezim to slay another." He began slowly.

"I spared your life because you swore loyalty to me," Sylvanas spat. "Prove it. Kill him, or I shall kill you both!"

Varimathras' eyes glinted maliciously, but he obeyed and struck his brother down. Balnazzar disappeared in an explosion of dark energy and only his breastplate remained behind. Garithos finally arrived, out of breath and covered in blood. Sylvanas turned towards him with a cold expression.

"You took your time, human. The dreadlord is already dead."

"So now you will relinquish control over Tirisfal to the Alliance." He stated confidently.

"I shall do no such thing, you arrogant fool. Lordaeron belongs to the Forsaken. Varimathras! Kill him!"

The dreadlord was much less reluctant now and descended upon the horrified human. After Garithos was dealt with, the undead forces scattered to deal with any remaining enemies in the catacombs. Only the banshees remained, floating behind their leader.

"We will rule the plaguelands as the Forsaken." She said loudly, glaring at the dreadlord. "We will find our own path in this world and slaughter anyone who stands in our way!"

"Well spoken," the dreadlord replied sarcastically. "We shall see how long you last."

"Watch it," she snapped.

The dreadlord bowed and withdrew into one of the smaller chambers. Sylvanas turned her attention to her banshees. 

"Soon," she said. "Once matters are settled here, I will keep my promise."

It took two agonizing weeks of waiting until Sylvanas called them all together in her throne room. The soul felt restless with anticipation, the need to know herself had grown greatly. It had occurred to her that she might be able to re-claim her body, which would undoubtedly grant her far greater powers than this vulnerable ethereal form. Sylvanas looked at each of them. The lich had killed a dozen banshees in Sylvanas' failed ambush. Far too few were left. 

"My sisters," she spoke, "It is time for us to go to Quel'thalas. You aren't truly dead, therefore your bodies are still your own. They have no right to keep them from you."

A shadow passed over her face as she reigned herself back in. "I taught you all you need to know to mend and re-posses your bodies. My scouts report that those who fell in the defense of Silvermoon are buried outside the city. I.. do not believe that it would be wise to let our brethren know what happened. Do not disturb your graves, teleport the coffins out of the ground. Let them remember you fondly for the elves you were."

The soul couldn't help but look down at her ethereal torso, the shimmering rags that hid the sphere of energy she was floating on. Once or twice she caught glimpse of her reflection in puddles and broken windows. It was not a sight she wished her family to see, if she had one and if they lived. The memories of the life she had before she died were lost to her, maybe due to the violent nature of her resurrection. Perhaps her body would give her some answers. 

"Rise up! Formations!" Sylvanas commanded and the banshees floated into orderly rows behind her. 

The banshee queen hesitated. She glanced at the door, which was being guarded by two heavily armed undead. 

"You are under strict instructions to keep this chamber locked until we return," she called out to the guards, "If I return to find my belongings gone, a fate worse than death awaits you!"

"Milady!" They saluted with identical grim expressions.

The banshee queen stepped down from the raised platform in the middle of the chamber and climbed into a dark wooden coffin that had been dragged in. She closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. Her banshee form rose out of the body at the heels of the air. Sylvanas peered down at the still body. 

"Let us hurry. There are many things about necromancy that I am yet unfamiliar with," she confessed quietly. 

The soul could understand the worry about her body's condition. She shuddered to think how badly her corpse might be mangled and rotten. It would take a lot out of her to mend the wounds. For that reason she carried a magic enhancing crystal with her, just in case. In comparison to the other banshees, her mana reserves were low. Sylvanas rose up in the air and her sisters followed. Once they reached the surface the queen ordered them to turn corporeal. It was faster that way and yet it took half the night to reach the eternal lands. From up above they could see the devastation and ruin the Sourge brought unto the land. No trees grew in the ugly black scar that seperated the forest in two, and the earth was black and corrupted. Sylvanas made them follow it all the way up to the lands beyond Elrendar river. The northern parts of the forest hadn't been twisted by Scourge magic and retained their lovely enchanted atmosphere. The soul was overwhelmed by the beauty of this land and her chest ached with grief at the thought that she'd helped defile it so. Silvermoon was in ruins, the once proud white walls broken. Sylvanas let out a mournful wail when she saw it and led them further away. Behind a small pond lay a grove of golden trees. Below them was a large graveyard full of freshly dug graves. Most were adorned with wreaths of flowers and trinkets. Slowly, they sank to the ground. 

"You may look for anything that seems familiar now," Sylvanas announced. 

The banshees scattered and floated along the rows of graves. The soul began looking at the far western side. Some graves held more than two bodies, in cases where siblings had fought and fallen. As she understood it from the inscriptions on the small stones, some graves held entire families from the outlying villages. It was only sensible that no one wanted to bury bodies far out in the wilds, where marauding Scourge might find them. Nothing she saw struck a nerve. Frustration began to rise up in her when she'd combed nearly half of the graveyard. Some of the others were already teleporting up coffins. She tried not to look and focused on reading the inscriptions. One small stone made her pause. 

"Faltora Sunweaver," she murmured, staring at the flat grey surface. 

It wasn't her, she knew that. Yet it gave her pause. Something deep inside her reacted to the name. Perhaps it was somebody she once knew. The grave was bare and undecorated. It seemed this elf had no family left to care for his remains. The soul quickly moved on, feeling slightly disturbed. At last she reached the eastern end. There was a large stone, far more elegantly carved than the others. Flowers and fallen leaves had been carved into the surface. The grave was broader than most others, holding four bodies, and richly decorated with numerous flower wreaths and tokens of loss. The banshee paused. 

"Here lies the most ancient and noble house Dawnstar. Never shall their glory be forgotten. Anu belore del'na."

There were four names carved below the big boldened 'Dawnstar'. The soul reached out and trailed her finger down the list. Aetheris, Silenda, Syronia, Alyna. On the last name, she paused.

"Alyna. Alyna Dawnstar." As she spoke, clarity burst forth in her mind.

Bright like the sun and searing just as painfully, a flood of memories rushed through her. None of them felt familiar, but they were hers. She faltered and quickly slammed up her mental shield to prevent them from leaking into the mental channel. For once it was deadly quiet as none of the others wanted to share their thoughts. It took her quite an effort to stem the tide of memories and put them away for later dissection. It was jarring and unpleasant to see these pictures of her former life washed clean of the emotions she was hardly able to feel anymore. Better to just get down to business. Her eyes closed as she focussed on the earth below. Indeed, four dead bodies were rotting away. She murmured a spell which pulled her conscious to the one on the far right. It took more concentration to visualize the casket and make it appear on the ground below. The banshee did not wish to disturb the flowers, so she dragged it further to the side. It was made of heavy dark wood of the finest quality. Whoever had buried her family had spared no expense. The lid lifted with a hiss, expelling a shimmering blue cloud of magic. 

"Oh," she gasped.

Her elven body was deathly pale and she'd been buried in her gold and blue ranger uniform. It had been cleaned and her hands folded on her chest. Upon closer inspection, she saw that the uniform had a large tear that ran from where her bellybutton would be to her breastbone. There were obvious stitches, rough and rushed handiwork. Ribs were visibly poking out under the material, so her body hadn't been sewn together. The soul was enraged at this treatment. Even worse, her bow hadn't been buried with her. She reached for the crystal in her pocket and began the incantation to restore the body to working conditions. It was a good idea to bring it, seeing as her mana ran out halfway through. The ribs had only begun to close and there was more internal damage than she realized. At this rate the spell would fail. Without warning, Sylvanas' presence appeared by her side. The Banshee Queen raised her hands and with new mana to feed on the spell finished its work. 

"Thank you, my queen," the soul called Alyna breathed. 

"I remember you," Sylvanas said abruptly. "You were there until the end."

Alyna sifted carefully through her memories until she came to the last hour of her mortal life. Fighting a horde of undead; the last of Sylvanas' students. Her broken bow. Getting slain by Arthas' blade. Looking at the stars as the life bled from her. 

"My last thought was that I wasn't finished living yet." She smiled bitterly. "Isn't it ironic?"

"There is no joy in this curse. The only thing I can offer you is purpose." 

"Yes." Alyna looked down at the pale body. 

"It won't get any easier. Take your body back and come find me and the others."

Alyna felt the presence leave and held out the crystal. It was nearly depleted, but as she understood it, she would only need to cast the spell once. The words were heavy and foreign on her lips, filling her soul with lead until she sank down into the cold flesh. Magic flooded her vision, sealing her back into the body she'd once been ripped out of. She could feel every muscle twitch and every joint groan. Once she was fully settled it didn't feel like any other possession she'd commited. There was no feeling of intruding in another body. This one was hers and it obeyed her willingly. Eyes blinked open and her hands unfolded to run over the roughly stitched familiar, yet unfamiliar material of her uniform. It was a large wound and she knew there was no evidence on her body. Good, she thought spitefully. Arthas had failed to kill her. In the end, she only came back twice as strong and angry. The fallen prince would rue the day he entered Quel'thalas. Alyna pushed herself up and out of her coffin. Already the necromantic energy of her spell was restoring strenght and mobility to her limbs. All around her, fallen elves were rising out of their coffins and joining Sylvanas, who floated in front of a statue in the middle of the graveyard. Alyna joined them. The angry glow of their eyes bathed her etheral form in red light.

"My dear sisters. Today is a day of triumph for you. You reclaimed your bodies and your past. Now we stand here, united in goal to kill the Lich King and make him pay for his sins. No one is more justified in their anger, none suffered more at his hands than us! Once we return to the Undercity I shall instruct you in the ways of the Dark Ranger. You will have the tools for destruction unlike any other. This is what you are now, creatures of death and darkness! Fear not, I shall guide you on this path. We will have our revenge!"

A ghostly choir of angry wails echoed through the forest, startling up the birds and making small creatures cower. Leaves rustled to the side and a cloaked figure stepped out of the bushes. Their face was hidden behind a thick scarf, but they had distinctively elven ears. 

"So it is true." The voice was definitely masculine.

Sylvanas turned to the newcomer. "You're late. Dawn is nearly upon us!"

"Forgive me, General."

"Quiet!" Sylvanas hissed, her eyes glowing menacingly. "I am no longer your General. This is the last time I will repeat myself. Do you have what I asked for?"

"Yes, they're waiting behind the trees. The gravetender arrives soon. You must hurry."

The cloaked elf bowed deeply and retreated into the shadows. Behind the trees he'd pointed at were several skeletal horses. Their eyes glowed with scourge light, but they seemed passive enough. Sylvanas waited until they had all mounted the provided steeds before she addressed them.

"Follow the scar south and make your way through the Plague Lands. I must return to the Undercity immediately." She gave each of them a stern look. "It is dangerous territory. Watch yourselves. A broken body can be restored, a destroyed soul cannot."

The more she thought about it, the less fitting the name Dawnstar sounded. Technically she was still an elf and yet she wasn't. Undeath had turned her into an unique being. There was no value in sentimentality; trying to hold on to what she lost would only weaken her. 

'I am Alyna Darksorrow.' She thought in the mental channel that connected her to the other banshees. 'My former name is meaningless.'

Agreement swept over her and she kicked her skeletal horse in the sides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This concludes the story of how Alyna came to be a Dark Ranger.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no real idea where I'm going with this. A few chapters are already written, but updates after that will be sluggish. -Just a friendly warning!


End file.
